Three Needles for a Life
by damienne is dead
Summary: I WON'T EDIT THIS FOR A LONG TIME/Old work. He remembered what she told them. Three needles through her heart, neck and then forehead. He remembered what to do. He'll do it, he'll save them...he's praying. A Stay Alive Fanfic.


Three Needles for a Life

He remembered what she told them. "Three needles through her heart, neck and then forehead." They'll search. They'll search for their souls.They'll search and search until come the day they'll once again be reunited. He can only pray.

Rated: T, possibly?

Very graphic, I guess. And there will probably be a fair amount of swearing. I may add a lemon, but I most likely won't...it's just a prequel. Once I get this over with, then the real action starts

**NOTES**: I do not own Stay Alive or any of its characters. This is a FANFIC. It's also my first, so bear with me, but not to much. I mean, I've written stories before. Anyways, mild flames are allowed. I would really, really like some constructive criticism.

* * *

He'll never forget the sound of her scream. The blood on her face, the blood that drenched her hair. He'll never forget it. Maybe, if he had just been there a minute earlier, just a minute, he could have saved her. She was still alive when he found her body. Choking, sputtering. Coughing out blood. Drenching his shirt. He would never, ever...

The dreams. He still had her in his dreams. Her and her little brother.

No...no, even the dreams started to slip away. No more joy, no more laughter. One month after their deaths, the dreams started changing. He saw their bloodied up bodies. He heard their amazing laughs, followed by the deep, deep shrill scream omitted from the two.

No more joy, no more laughter.

Madness. Screams. Gore.

He tossed and turned in his bed. No, no...his can't be happening. No. No. Not again, not...

_Help me..._ her voice was faint; Coarse. _It's not to late...it's never to late_.

Her face, her hair...still drenched in blood. Soaked thoroughly. She pled the same thing..._Help me, help me...fix this...you said you could fix this...save us...save us...please...Hutch, Hutch... _

It was so good to hear her name, it was sweet, metallic, even through the coarseness of her voice.

He approached her. One step, two...stepped back. Three more steps, and then, he heard it. Her scream. A scream so shrill, so loud, so..._October_ that it brought Hutch to his knees and caused him to scream as well.

He awoke, eyes bloodshot and yet, ablaze. Panic-stricken. Gasping for air. Drops of perspiration clung tightly all over his chest, arms, and face.

"It was just a dream," he whisperd, reassuring himself as he did after every 'dream'. "just a dream..."

"You all right, man?" Swink asked. Hutch had barely spoken a word the whole day. Swink had been spending more time with Hutch, trying to figure out what made him frusterated, trying to figure out how he really felt when he felt it.

"Yeah, you don't look to good." Abigail mumured. "Is everything okay?"

Hutch took his eyes off the Bud Light, and stared up at the two of his friends. "Yeah..yeah, everything's okay."

"Are you sure, Hutch? You're a lot paler than usual."

"I just..." Hutch turned away from Swink and looked back at his beer.

"Just...?" Abigail continued for him.

Hutch shrugged. "It's nothing. Sorry." Abigail patted his back, something she saw October do whenever he was down. "Look, sweetie, if there's--" she was cut off when Hutch stared blankly at her. 'Sweetie...' October called him sweetie. _Sweetie_…

Abigail sighed. "Right, I'm sorry. But, if there's anything you need to say, say it."

"We're here for you, dude." Swink nodded, finishing off abigail's sentence.

The three remained silent. Silent, as silent as the funerals for the...for...

"I've been having dreams."

"Dreams?" Swink demanded.

"About...October...and, and Phin..eous..." He lagged and stuttered on hid sentences, not knowing exactly what to say. He didn't want to worry them to much. "I think...that...I think they're trying to tell me something." He obviously forced out that last sentence.

Swink knows now that he should take Hutch more seriously. He was right about the game. About the deaths. Maybe he was right about this.

"You sure, bro? What kinda dreams?"

"_Help Me_."

"October, she was calling out for me. Asking me to fix this. She'd say things like,'_It's not too late_', or '_You said you can fix this'_...and everytime I approached her, she would scream. Like she did when Bathory or whatever her name is killed...her."

Swink scrunched his eyebrows at his friend. If this was true, if Hutch had indeed had dreams exactly like this, then, may there was a way.

"Well," he started. "it's not entirely unlikely that your dreams are telling you something. I mean, they could just be what you desire the most to happen, or maybe it's the dead getting back to you. Either for revenge, or need. Want. I don't really believe in that stuff, but October sure did, and she's the one contacting you, right? Abigail, what do you think?"

Abigail slowly began to walk downstairs. "It's getting cold." she whispered. "We should go in."

On the way down, she said, "I've been hearing voices. I think it's Phin. And Hutch, Swink and I were talking, he said--"

"I'm feeling a presence, I think it's them. And it's only happened recently."

Hutch took everything in. "For how long has this been going on?" he asked, and they responded, saying that it's been going on for a week. Just like the dreams.

They were finally outside walking towards the van when Abigail suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

"Abigail?"

"Maybe their souls are still out there." October was rubbing off on her. "Even though they're gone, they're not really gone, right?"

"What are you getting at?" Hutch demanded.

"What did October say? About the needles?"

It all hit him. It hit Hutch like their deaths. It suddenly rammed at him, so hard he thought he'd fall over.

"_'If you find her, you must put three needles; through her chest, neck and then forehead._'"

_Maybe I_ can _fix this_ He thought to himself.


End file.
